Now, the hero of
Every story is a that
Same fireball girl.
Tag: Girls
September Poem 2: Her Own Special Hat
When among moms, each girl could really lose
Track of the melodramatic conflict
Between a parent’s intention and her
Boyfriend’s instead finding the joint between
God and heaven. Correlation growing
Above the mountain top. A beautifully
decorated children’s choir of storm
Rose in the sagebrush. The paler green of
Its waxless foliage would adorn their
Hats and earth information on Twitter.
Shumaker played well in the first and ate
Her own special hat more than anything.
They wore them to the brunch dreaming of what
They thought they wanted one Friday morning.
December Poem 6
Divergent Loathing in Las Vegas.
Gotta get em young.
Hotdog crust fried chicken.
They gotta eat.
Jesus. In that dress I teabagged,
She seemed miraculous:
A shift from non-ceased following,
A negative in an instant,
And often, an expert use of a hundred logic arrows.
My God, her butt did look big.
therichardbraxton 